


A Candle's Fire

by basedHermes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Platonic Life Partners, Reminiscing, Singing, Song Lyrics, Song fic, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3793885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basedHermes/pseuds/basedHermes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John reflects on past things, he sings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Candle's Fire

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:  
> • I'm serious, please listen to the song. It's kind of an indie-pop (unsure), something that everyone probably likes.

[This work is based on a song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqtDIeJW0ss) 

Please listen to it beforehand.

* * *

It was _10:00pm_ on a Saturday.

John comes home exhausted from the surgery with groceries in hand. He decides to send off a text to Sherlock before opening the door to 221B.

| _Italian in the fridge when you get home._

| _Won’t be home until 12; will be asking Lestrade for cold cases before doing Mycroft a few favours. SH_

| ~~_Alright. Be careful._~~

John contemplates, but he decides to erase it. That doesn't necessarily need a reply. He enters 221B.

Once upstairs, he goes to the kitchen and puts the takeout and groceries in the fridge. John takes a shower and changes in a black dress shirt and matching black jeans before settling down in his armchair, eyes lingering around the empty flat. He pats the sides of his armchair absent-mindedly. His wandering eyes stop when he sees some sort of novel peeking out the sofa cushions. He walks to the couch and plucks out the novel. Ah, just an old romance novel that John has read quite some time before. He walks back to his armchair and plops down with the novel in hand. He hoped for new insights, but just skimming through was proved to be completely useless. He sighs. John held the reading material at chest-level. This was what he first read when he finally agreed to take the extra residence in 221B on the late night after his and Sherlock's first case together: _The Study in Pink_.

John Watson receives a faint flashback without much content. He tries to make it appear again.

He gets into a different position in his chair, head on an arm, legs and feet dangling in the other. The doctor drops the novel onto Mrs. Hudson’s Persian carpet to lace his hands together on top of his clothed belly.

John closes his eyes and starts singing softly as he reminisces.

 

 **“Oh, light a candle’s fire, ‘carries a good name..”** – John begins an exciting new chapter in life; meeting a mysterious and brilliant man with an absurd name.

_When he first met Sherlock at Saint Bart’s; God, he would have to thank Mike Stamford for introducing the man to him. John was amazed at the accuracy of this Sherlock fellow’s deductions. "He does that," said Mike. “The name’s Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street.” John was honestly excited to see the flat and the man again._

**“What would you ask a campfire? It scares me just the same..”** John’s voice slightly rises at the word _'fire'_ , then back to moderate, and then it lowers again at _'same'._ – What would you do to keep a lengthy and healthy relationship with the destructive, cunning and ever-mysterious man that is Sherlock bloody Holmes? What a farcical question.

 _It was on the same night when they took on the first case. When Sherlock took off in a cab after figuring out that the Pink Woman had a matching pink case that seemed to be missing, he stayed with the Detective Inspector momentarily and asked how he knew the man. Lestrade only said the good things; valuing his points and theories, his swiftness, intellect, eagerness, plus the harsh but hilarious insults at the Head of the Scotland Yard Forensics Team whom people knew as Philip Anderson. While the female Sergeant downstairs warned him of Sherlock who she depicted as deceitful and mischievous. “_ _Y_ _ou know why he's here? He's not paid or anything. He likes it. He gets off on it. The weirder the crime the more he gets off. And you know what? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing around a body and Sherlock Holmes will be the one who put it there. He's a psychopath. Psychopaths get bored.” John payed no heed to the sergeant._

 **“And you, you had it all along, an endless need for games..”** – Sherlock needs many complex and gruesome cases on a regular basis. The more complicated and grisly, the better. A bored Sherlock is never good. Remember that time when he lashed out and shot holes into Mrs. Hudson’s wall? It is even worse when he doesn't have a gun – but, the details are classified by the British Government.

_A bored Sherlock turns into a self-destructive Sherlock. But, one would always have to be wary of the Danger Nights. Sherlock might have been truly saddened with the death of Irene Adler, but he didn't shed a single tear. That night when the Holmes Brothers were at the morgue to see Irene’s body, John and Mrs. Hudson searched the entire flat for, what they suspect are, drugs, but the pair who lived with Sherlock found no trace of what they were looking for. Meanwhile at Bart’s: Mycroft offered Sherlock a cigarette and he took it. Once the younger Holmes walked out of the corridor outside the mortuary, the elder Holmes speed-dialed John, requesting him to stay at home and look after Sherlock, which led to cancelling his plans and breaking up with Jeanette. They finished up, making sure that nothing looks moved or out of place, but through Holmesian eyes, everything would probably look immensely in disorder. That said, Sherlock did know. “Hope you didn't mess up my sock index this time.” This one of Moriarty’s many games for Sherlock almost broke the man, for he pulled out and played the Card of Sentiment._

_"--The promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of redemption, then give him a puzzle and watch him dance."_

**“Just don’t forget a candle’s fire, is only just a flame..”**

  _Just don’t forget that Sherlock Holmes is only human._

John stopped and opened his eyes. The flat was still empty. He then closed them once more as he continued to sing.

 

 **“I, it’s certain from a far, failed to pull my weight” -** On the rooftop John remembered his cane that he left at Angelo’s. _“Come on, John! We’re losing him!”_

_John looked at Sherlock. Sherlock was looking at him. John saw his eyes gave a flash of belief, but also uncertainty. He nodded curtly and held out his hand, a gesture that said “you can do it.” John jumped while looking at Sherlock. His feet landed on the concrete of the next building, adrenaline surging through him. He expected severe pain-- somewhere.. he doesn't remember. Something tells him he shouldn't want to remember, or he'll feel it again. S_ _herlock smiled before grabbing John's hand and they ran once more. Through they eventually let go for the cab moved faster. All the cases after that, John was never behind Sherlock, they stayed side-by-side, running._

**“But you were light; you traveled through the fog, to arrive at our front gate..”** – Sherlock was all tall, long legs, and lean muscles. John was shorter with not very long legs, but still well built from being in the army.

_When it gets too late to come across a cab, the Consulting Detectives race home running, giggling. It’s quite surprising how childish Sherlock and John can still be. You definitely couldn't hold out too much hope with a genius who goes to the morgue when he's free and a veteran who invaded Afghanistan. They are a dynamic duo._

**“Tonight, we rest beside the fi-“** John opened his eyes and abruptly stopped singing, finding a grinning Sherlock across him. “When the _bloody fuck_ did you arrive?” John choked out amusingly, moving to sit properly on his chair. “Turns out that big brother has it all under control. Home early. I also didn't know you could sing; interesting.." Sherlock replies, pulling his knees up to his chest. The man was already in his gray tee shirt and blue pyjamas. John didn't notice he was staring. “Well, continue, will you? Your voice is quite pleasing and intriguing.” John smiles and brings up his own legs, now in a cross-sitting position on his red armchair. He continues as he lifted one brow, smirking, and folding his arms in front of him. **“Tonight, we rest beside the fire, a smile upon your face..”**

Sherlock joins him in singing **“Just don’t forget a candle’s fire, is only just a flame..”** a lovely mixing of Sherlock’s thick, silky baritone and John’s very English, light and low tenor together.

 

John allows Sherlock to take the last four-lined solo. It fit him anyway.

Sherlock continues, carrying the song’s notes fully, completely, perfectly. John stiffens as he hears his best mate’s singing voice for the first time.

 

 **“If I had known not to carry on that way, it wouldn't show in the creases of your face,”** Sherlock’s eyes closed, tightened slightly, his head tilts upward and then side to side. Sherlock was practically doing a rocking jolly-good job. John giggled, which Sherlock heard. He smiled as his eyes were still closed, still singing. - Sherlock knows he is a troublemaker, and being a troublemaker puts whoever he cares about in danger. He cares about John the most.

 _Sherlock needed John for protection and his medical opinions, but the ex-army doctor gave him more, and Sherlock was glad he did. Sherlock remembered the millisecond when he saw John’s face when he jumped off of Bart’s. It was a mix of fear, sadness, despair, and confusion. He had to – Sherlock had to, or else he’d die. He saved John. Sherlock was in disbelief when he was about to propose to a girl named Mary – really, John? Leave all our past-life behind? “You missed this, just the two of us against the rest of the world.” Punch. Ow. In the end, Sherlock was glad that he cancelled the proposal to Mary. She was probably Mary Moran. Moran. Moriarty’s right-hand. He left her be, unsure of the assumption. This life-long game of crime fighting and investigation that the two men had was enough to put everyone around them in danger, but it was more dangerous for either one of them, specifically - John, because nobody wanted John. He was just a depressed, anxiety-eaten, non-credited army veteran with a nonexistent limp and ugly bullet wound. Thanks to Sherlock, who took in John Hamish Watson, he s_ _howed him that the tall, mysterious man with high cheekbones was a walking threat, making everywhere he step foot on a proper battlefield. But John has_ _been crumpled and creased like paper for what he put him through. Sherlock wondered many times how John put up with him._

 **“If you should go, but you carry on my name..”** he looks at John this time, tilting his head downward but he looked at John. – The thought of John leaving crossed through Sherlock’s great mind a thousand times.

_When he does go, will he still remember Sherlock? Of course he will, but he’ll try to forget so he could start afresh. Will he meet new friends and tell them about the amazing Sherlock Holmes and his antics? Probably, probably. But Sherlock never wants him to leave._

 

John joins him for the last line.

 

 **“Just let it blow, in the fog of Bishop’s Lane.”** – _Bishops Lane; you mean Baker Street_, it makes sense.

_221B was the true home of madness. The landlady was a former exotic belly-dancer, now in her late seventies; she takes herbal soothers and spikes biscuits. Besides troubled clients who come 5 times a week, assassins who come almost rarely, AND the non compos mentis of Sherlock’s experiments, the British Government (Mycroft) visits, and sometimes, the British Security and Inspection (Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade) stops by too. Once in a while the British Health (Molly) brings in Sherlock and John’s favourite meals that she home-cooked herself. It was lovely of her. There was also one time when the American Admonishment (Irene) came by and Sherlock was very happy; so happy that he ravished her with kisses when she came through the door. John, of course was in the surgery and Sherlock told him what happened through text. It was quite explicit and John threw his phone across the room of his office, startling a patient who sat on the examination bench._

They ended singing with audible huffs of breath. John leans back in his armchair. He looks at the dancing fire of the fireplace before looking at Sherlock who never ceased smiling. “Not good?” Sherlock asks. “Only that bit when I didn't hear you enter the flat,” John says, smiling back. Sherlock looks down and touches his face, shocked at the display of emotion; he stops the smiling. John shakes his head and stands up, “Should I heat up the Indian for you? And some tea?” The kind doctor asks.

“Yes, John. That’d be lovely.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:  
> • I do not profit off any of my works here on AO3.org.  
> • This work stands as a oneshot and no sequels.  
> Disclaimers:  
> • Original Sherlock Holmes - © Sir Arthur Conan Doyle  
> • BBC’s Modern Adaptation of Sherlock Holmes - © Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss, & others  
> • And other notable Sherlock Holmes Adaptations - en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adaptations_of_Sherlock_Holmes  
> • The song this work is based on is by the band Beirut


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